


Those Who Believe In the Beauty of Their Dreams

by evol_love



Series: Dreamshare series [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Inception, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:38:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evol_love/pseuds/evol_love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many rumors as to how Jehan became the architect of Combeferre and Enjolras' team, most of which are untrue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Those Who Believe In the Beauty of Their Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anna my love](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Anna+my+love).



> The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.  
> -Eleanor Roosevelt
> 
> This turned out to be significantly sappier than I thought it would be. Enjoy.

There are many rumors as to how Jehan became the architect of Combeferre and Enjolras' team, most of which are untrue. It’s just that Jehan was the first to join them, and thus he’s something of a mystery.

XXXXXX

Eponine and Marius started working for the team a few months after Jehan joined, co-chemists and friends of a sort. Eponine’s crappy family had introduced her to dream crime--and crime in general--at a fairly young age; therefore, she was damn good. She’d met Marius by accident one day and did her best to make him passably street-smart. She’d introduced him to dream crime and he’d become hooked on the idea of a new world of possibilities.

They’d found Combeferre and Enjolras, not the other way around. Marius, an exchange student of all things, was in Paris for school, and so noticed the sudden absence of his acquaintance, Jean Prouvaire. Prouvaire was a fellow American, and Marius had enjoyed his company and was sad he was gone. It wasn’t an illness, though, and he hadn’t heard anything of trouble abroad with the man’s family or anything. So, in what Eponine liked to call “true Marius fashion,” he’d done some digging (read: got Eponine to do some digging since she had more resources than him) and finally got word of Jehan. It was Eponine’s drug dealer, of all people, that had heard about the poet.

“Jean Prouvaire? I think he said his last name’s Prouvaire. Small and prone to wearing things with flowers on them?” Marius nodded, more than a little terrified in the presence of the infamous Montparnasse. “That’s Jehan.” Montparnasse was smiling, a gleam of what could be fondness in his eyes. “Yeah, he’s fine. No need to worry, Pontmercy.”

“Where is he?” Marius insisted.

Montparnasse looked at him darkly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” And then he’d blown a puff of cigarette smoke at him and skulked off.

So Marius gathered that Prouvaire--Jehan?--had gotten into “the wrong crowd” and was hooked on meth or something and Marius had to help get him out of it. Eponine had laughed at him a lot, but she hadn’t tried to stop him.

Naturally he’d felt like an idiot when he stumbled on a cheery and definitely not drugged up Jehan two weeks later in the Cafe Musain. He’d waved at Marius and come to sit beside him.

“It’s been awhile, how are you?” he’d asked, and Marius felt a little foolish.

“I’m, uh, fine. Where have you been, Prouvaire, you’ve missed about a month of school.”

“Jehan.” Jehan blushed. “I’ve, uh, been getting work experience. Got a job offer, a really good one, no sense staying in school when I could be out there working.”

“Uh huh.”

Jehan bit his lip. “Listen, Marius, I know you’re friends with Eponine. I was wondering if she’s talked to you about a particular branch of-”

“Are you talking about Dreamshare?” Marius interrupted. He supposes, in hindsight, that was what Eponine meant by ‘putting his foot in his mouth.’

“Yes. I guess you do know about it.”

“‘Ponine’s taught me a bit about the chemistry of it, yes. That’s her field.”

Jehan beams. ‘That’s perfect, that’s exactly what we need.”

Long story short, Eponine and Marius waltz into the Musain again a week later and enter the back room they’d been informed was a dream crime hangout to negotiate their spot in Combeferre, Enjolras, and Jehan’s team.

Marius is still pretty sure Jehan got hooked on meth, though.

XXXXXXX

Montparnasse meets Jehan the week after he drops out of school.

He’s seen Enjolras and Combeferre around plenty, and knows they’re doing illegal things. But so is he, so whatever.

But then a guy he hasn’t seen around before--and he knows _everyone_ who walks into the back room of the Musain, and his heart drops just a bit. Because this is the _hottest fucking guy he’s ever seen._ He knows he’s staring, but he doesn’t care. The guy looks up and sees Montparnasse watching him, and he...smiles.

People don’t _smile_ at Montparnasse. People grimace, or turn away quickly, or look afraid. No one smiles at him.

It isn’t even a worried smile, it’s completely genuine. Montparnasse is concerned about this guy’s mental well-being for a fraction of a second before he goes into panic mode because the hot guy is coming over to him.

“Are you staring at me?” he asks.

“No.”

And the man laughs in a way that says he already had known the answer to the question. “I’m Jehan.”

“Montparnasse.”

And that’s how Montparnasse ends up in Jehan’s bed three days later with the poet straddling him while they kiss sloppily, Jehan grinding down against him. He regrets absolutely zero.

The sex is great, but the first time Jehan pulls him into a dream is the best moment of all.

XXXXXXX

“How did you get here? Think about it, babe. How did you get here?” Jehan is saying carefully, like he’s talking to a tantrum-prone child.

Montparnasse thinks about it. He does. But he just doesn’t know.

“So we’re dreaming?” Montparnasse asks finally. Jehan nods, smiling a little as he realizes Montparnasse isn’t going to freak out on him. He needn’t have worried; Jehan’s about the only thing Montparnasse _does_ trust.

“I built everything in here.”

“You built this?” he knew Montparnasse had been in school for architecture, but the intricacies of this vast world Jehan has created look like they should’ve taken years of careful studies. The archways, the bridges, the elaborate stonework, and flowers absolutely everywhere (he should have known Jehan had created this world).

Jehan nods. “I built it for you.”

XXXXXXX

By the time Joly is freelancing for them and Grantaire becomes their forger (that one’s Jehan’s favorite story. He tells it often, with feeling.), Jehan has worked for Combeferre and Enjolras for over a year.

“And how exactly did you get the fairy princess to join you in your dirty, scary world of crime?” Grantaire asks the team one day over dinner. The joke is fond and teasing; no one would ever dare suggest Jehan is even slightly incapable of his high-pressure high-skill job, for fear of getting shot in the foot the next time they went under with him.

Combeferre just smiles and doesn’t answer; he loves hearing the gossip. It gets more ridiculous every time.

“I heard he dropped out of school and got into some sticky situations with the law. Something about drugs, I think? And it put him on everyone’s radar and ‘Parnasse tracked him down and sucked him in.” Joly says.

“Sucked him _off_ , maybe,” Grantaire huffs. “You’ve been hanging out with Pontmercy too much, Joly.”

“Yeah, I heard it was the other way around, that Jehan got Montparnasse into Dreamshare so they could work together,” Eponine chimes in. “Anyway, the real story is that Jehan heard about Dreamshare and Combeferre’s team through some private source and tracked him down and insisted on working with him or something.”

“Bullshit.”

And the rumors really started flying.

“He dropped out of college to start a Dreamshare revolution.”

“He was never in college, he was a plant for Enjolras to find new recruits.”

“He was an American spy stealing Dreamshare technology from France.”

“I don’t even think Jehan is his real name.”

“He joined as a part of his teenage rebellion.”

“Enjolras and Combeferre found him on the street and took him in as their own.”

“He beat Montparnasse up in an alley and Enjolras was so impressed he gave him a job.”

“Combeferre was sent to extract something from him for the government, but Jehan fought back so well that Combeferre decided to hire him.”

“You’re all idiots, he obviously started his own team and when they got hits placed on them he changed his name and joined a new team so he wouldn’t get killed.”

“He’s hiding from the FBI.”

“Jesus christ!” that one was Jehan, who had entered the room a minute earlier and was laughing in the doorway, Montparnasse behind him. “It’s not nearly as interesting as all that.”

They all waited, watching him expectantly. “Enjolras wanted to find a better architect than their last one, because I guess he was a flake and ratted them out on a job, and he had a friend who was my architecture professor at school. He recommended me, because I’m _that good._ They tested me, and I kicked everyone’s expectations in the ass, and so they hired me away from college.”

“Are you _sure_ Montparnasse didn’t lure you into his drug ring?”

“Quite sure. Let’s eat.”

XXXXXXX

Jehan was two months from graduating when Professor Lamarque pulled him aside and said “This is an old student of mine, Jean, I believe he has a business opportunity to discuss with you.”

And it’s not every day some guy with perfect hair offers you the world’s best job, so Jehan had taken him up on it.

Enjolras and Combeferre, who he’d met later over drinks in the Cafe Musain, put him through test after test, having him draw mazes with a ballpoint pen until his wrist was sore.

“Good enough yet?” he’d ask after handing each over. Combeferre went through and solved each in seconds, shaking his head.

“Try again.”

And when Jehan had gotten angry and made the maze round, and made it into a complex spiral of dead ends, Combeferre had looked at Enjolras and smiled, and Jehan knew he’d succeeded.

The changing-his-name bit was a true story. Most of them went by fake names, or names that were only half true. It was a necessary precaution in their line of work.

XXXXXXX

One night, when Jehan was lying in bed idly and stroking Montparnasse’s hair, Montparnasse asked, “You know that first dream you brought me into? The one you said you built for me.”

“Yes?”

“It looked like you’d spent...I don’t know, _years_ on it. How long did that take you to create?”

Jehan paused thoughtfully. “Well, I’d been working for about a month when I brought you in there. And I’d been working on that landscape since the start. So, really, my whole Dreamshare life.”

Montparnasse whistles. “How long were you in there, do you think?”

“I spent all of my time in there before I met you.”

“You lived there, then.”

Jehan looked at him seriously. “The best part of building dreams is that you can create things that could never exist, that couldn’t ever be real to you. And I lived for that. But I don’t need to live for dreams anymore.” He cupped Montparnasse’s cheek with his hand and pulled him into a kiss. “I have you. Mine came true.”

**Author's Note:**

> written for phonecallfromgod.tumblr.com because she's the actual best and cheered this on so hard. Thank you!


End file.
